Fooled Myself
by DCFanatic4life
Summary: He tried to move on, he tried to leave her, he tried everything so maybe it's time to give up...Chris/Stephanie, one-shot


**Disclaimer: The characters and real people in this story do not belong to me, the characters belong to the WWE and the real people own themselves. There's swearing in this story so if you're offended by a potty mouth, then this might not be your best bet. You've been warned.**

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><p>AN: So I wrote this one-shot last year before Stephanie had her kid so the kid in this story is not the same as the one she gave birth to. That's pretty much all you need to know going into this one. I found it on my computer and since it's extra long, I just decided to post it. I hope that you enjoy it and if you want to leave a review, that'd be awesome and if you want to be brutal, I invite you to do so. Hope you enjoy and reviews would be awesome! :)

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><p>He couldn't even bear to hear her name.<p>

He'd insulated himself from it. He wished that the name could be stricken from record, really, because every time he heard it, it made his stomach churn. Even in passing, if he heard her name, his insides would melt and it would take him hours to compose himself. He wasn't a man who cried. Oh sure, he'd cried at the sad and very happy events, his children's births, his mother's death, yes, he'd cried. But the everyday shedding of tears wasn't his style and yet, whenever he merely heard her name, his eyes burned and he was blinking back salty dew from his eyes. They looked red and bloodshot all the time and he blamed the allergies.

Even now, he could never blame _her_.

He stared up at the ceiling. Jessica was getting ready for her trip to Vegas, but he could care less. Their marriage was a farce, a house built of cards, one breath and the truth would be revealed. They hadn't been a couple since 2007 and didn't even sleep in the same room. He'd taken to the guest bedroom since he'd come back. He hadn't wanted to come back, but the kids were here and because he had no other prospects, being near them was the best deal in town. He and Jessica weren't working, but they mostly stayed out of one another's lives anyways. She wanted to party in Vegas, fine, he wanted to stay and wallow in his own pity, that was fine with her. She hadn't even bothered to ask him what was wrong, but that was Jessica to a tee, she never really thought of anyone else. It was always Jessica then whomever could grab her attention for her five minute attention span.

The one thing she did care about was appearances. She was obsessed with keeping up the appearance of a happy marriage. He played along because he had nothing better to do. He was a man-in-waiting and when you were waiting, you had time, oh boy did you have time. So he pretended that he'd been happily married for ten years, but the smile never reached his eyes and he pretended to have a fun family vacation, but the excitement never hit his bones. He pretended; his whole life was one of pretending and illusion and just being false. He felt false, like everything he did was just something some puppet-master made him do. He was drowning and gasping for air and life kept pushing him down.

And now this.

It made him want to go back to a very dark place. As the booze hit his lips, it made him actually want to go back to Barbie. The girl was the ultimate distraction, if not in the bed, on the eyes. She was young and carefree and had a certain...quality to her, pretty some called it and maybe he'd agree because pretty was so shallow a word. It didn't mean anything anymore. Breathtaking, now that meant something. So yeah, Barbie was pretty. But that was about the depth of her, she was pretty and not much else, but she was a distraction, a good one. The first time he'd tried, right after he left his life, he'd tried, he tried so hard. He thought...God, he thought a lot of things that didn't come true. The sting of rejection led him straight to the harshness of revenge. Yes, Barbie had been the perfect revenge, a perky, nubile, barely legal girl had been the perfect revenge. A year and a half's worth of revenge, though he slipped from time to time because when you have pretty, but can have _breathtaking_, you take it and you hold on for dear life. But then breathtaking leaves and pretty is all you can really have. But that meant pretty worked, even if she was an absolute dud in bed. You had to suffer for your toils.

If Barbie were here right now, he'd probably fuck her through the floor to the first floor of his house and then he'd fuck her right into the ground. It was amazing the lengths your body and mind is willing to go to forget. If he just concentrated on fucking her, maybe all the other stuff would fade. He knew it wouldn't work that way, on today of all days, but he might as well try. He knew Barbie was with Justin Gabriel now, but the girl was always fucking someone on the side and maybe a quick fix was just what he needed this evening. It would be better than sitting here alone with all his rejection and breathtaking completely out of his reach.

He remembered the last true moment of personal happiness he had. It was the night of the Hall of Fame. He remembers the way he was seated so close and yet so far away from her. The year before, they'd practically been on top of each other and he pretended all night that he was part of the McMahon family, that it had all come true. That night, he'd felt detached and anxious. He watched her walk in on the arm of that other man, the one she refused to give up for the stupidest of reasons. Her stomach was showing, she'd looked...well, breathtaking. He had actually felt his breath stunt and he'd leaned forward in his seat to get a better view. Her eyes were scanning the crowd and they didn't find him, maybe that was a sign. She'd sat down and he spent all night leaning forward, trying to gather a glimpse of her, trying to will her to look behind him. On the screen, when they flashed to her, he could see her face, see how miserable she looked and he knew that the night was perfect and he'd chosen the right time to ask her again. This time, he knew he wouldn't get rejected, how could she when the evidence of them was protruding from the stomach right now, when their other evidence was sitting somewhere with a babysitter.

He'd walked straight to her after the ceremony ended and she was smiling at him, glad to see him, he knew. Her eyes shone and she laughed and let him touch her stomach and he'd been in awe. The other man was right there and she was smiling at him and letting him touch her stomach. He'd felt the hope bubble in his stomach and burst right into his heart, pulsating underneath his skin as his hands started to shake a little.

"Can we talk later?" he'd asked, his voice low.

"I'll see you at the party," she'd told him and he'd taken that for her assent and his body, brain, soul couldn't wait.

He'd tried to wait the appropriate amount of time at the party. Though he stood right by the door to make sure she showed up, he waited nearly half an hour and when she was away from that other man to actually approach her. She had been talking to Wendi Richter, one of the inductees and he slashed his way through the crowd and sidled up to her. She'd looked over her shoulder and given a brief smile, just the corner of her lips turned up and he'd watched her end her conversation.

"Hey, so I was thinking," he nodded his head towards the door and she nodded her agreement. He took the crook of her elbow and led her out the door and down a small hallway towards a more secluded sitting area outside some bathrooms. She sat down and he sat down her, took a quick scan of the area and then pressed both his hands to her face and kissed her. He pulled away and smiled.

"I've missed you."

"I can tell," she'd said sweetly, almost coyly. "How have you been, Chris?"

"I miss you."

"I thought you had Barbie or am I wrong to assume that the photos I've been seeing of you have been real and not somehow photoshopped."

"It's all over with her," Chris said, having the decency to look ashamed. "It was ridiculous in the first place. She's too young, all she wants to do is party and fuck and that's not a life. I don't...I don't...she was just..."

"I know what she was," Stephanie said, mercifully taking the words from him. He just nodded. "Well, I'm glad to see that you have come out intact and STD-free I hope."

He'd laughed, he couldn't help it. "Yes, believe me."

"Okay," she said. "So..."

"Stephanie, I've left my wife for you, I subjected myself freely to Barbie Blank. I don't know what to do anymore. I just...I want you, Stephanie. I just want you so much and so bad and so...when is it our time?"

She'd laughed, "You had to say 'our time,' huh?"

He hadn't meant to, but it brought up that other man. "I'm sorry. It's just, I gave up everything to be with you. You said you'd do the same, you said it two and a half years ago and I'm still here, sitting here, begging you to do what I've done."

"I know," she said ashamedly. "Chris, it's just complicated is all."

"What can be so complicated?" he'd pressured her to say.

"Life."

"So we make our own lives," he told her. "We do things our own way! If we've come this far, what's a little farther, right? We can make this work, I can make this work."

She'd paused. The pause was far too long. He became desperate, grabbing her hands and holding them in his, careful not to run his thumb over her rings. Those were sorry reminders of something she needed to give up. Her eyes flitted down to their hands, where his wedding ring was gone, but the faded "Jessica" still visible on his skin. He couldn't read what she was thinking, but he hoped that the pause was good, that the pause was her planning out her logistics in leaving. He pulled one hand away and then brushed her hair out of her face.

She'd cleared her throat, as if to steel herself. "Chris, things right now…my mom's campaign is just getting into full swing and she's got a really good shot at winning the primary and getting on the ticket. She really can't afford any more scandal. They're already nailing her for old storylines and then my dad's boat and there are groups of people who are opposing her and trying to knock her down. If it comes out...if I were to leave Paul, it would shatter the family image she's trying to go for."

"Stephanie..." Her name died on the air between their lips.

"Plus, with Paul about to leave and do the movies, I mean, if I divorce him-"

"Stop, Steph," he said, looking down and pulling his hands away. "I've at least heard _that_ speech before. Paul is too valuable to the company. If I divorce him for you, if I tell him that our kids aren't really his, he'll leave and go to TNA and my dad will hate me and I can't afford it. It's a bullshit reason, you know. You think he's going to go to some rinky-dink promotion?"

"Kurt did and Paul thinks himself bigger than life, he'd consider it a personal mission to make it big."

"And so it goes," Chris told her. He stood up and shook his head, as if trying to shake her from his thoughts. "No, say no more, Steph, I get it, I really do."

"Chris..."

"No, Steph, let's just leave it at this."

He'd left it at that. She'd tried to call him, he ignored them, she texted him, he deleted them. Still, parts of him still tried occasionally. He knew she read his Twitter so he boosted the company whenever he had the chance, just to show her he was still so proud of her. But then the phone calls stopped, the texts ended and he wasn't so sure she checked his Twitter anymore. Around that time, Jessica had called. The twins missed him desperately and Ash didn't seem to want to help. He'd dropped by and spent the night. Jessica had propositioned him that night, told him to come back, they didn't have to be married to one another, but they could fool people. She liked the status that came with being Chris Jericho's wife, envy of millions. He didn't much care about anything anymore so he'd agreed and his lifeless marriage had been given a slight pulse.

It wasn't happy though, but then, what about life was ever really happy? His kids sustained him, these sweet, funny little kids, his daughters, getting ready for big, bad preschool and Ash getting ready for the 1st grade of all things. It took his mind off what the others were doing. Aurora would be starting preschool too and Murphy, well, she'd probably want to start preschool and whining when Stephanie told her it was for bigger kids. He tried not to think of her stomach, of that baby. He tried not to, but was reminded every so often. The last few weeks, Paul had been traveling with the company and had been bragging about the boy that he was finally getting. Yeah, well, it wasn't Paul who'd given Stephanie that boy, but what of it? The threat of TNA was too large and God forbid Linda lose an election she had no business being in, in the first place. Fuck them both for taking breathtaking away from him.

That's why he'd come to his decision. That's why he had to leave. She knew, she had to know. Vince, though upset about it, had agreed as long as he promised to return. Maybe the time away would give him proper time to assess the situation. He hated another man raising his other kids, but unless he could weasel her into paternity tests, he had no claim over them. He had only this house and this bed for one and his kids. That was his situation. He knew that Jessica wanted to try and repair what they'd lost, but they'd lost too much and now there was too little.

His phone buzzed from his side and he looked at it. It was from Jay, "Signed up for Twitter, man, everyone is going to love my tweets more than yours."

Chris laughed, another text, this one too from Jay, "Oh, heard Stephanie finally had the baby, thought you might be interested in that info."

His stomach flopped. Jay had no idea the past between them. Desperate for some kind of distraction, he threw himself into Twitter, reading every fucking response because it was something to do. He saw her name far too many times and each one sent him sinking further and further into his bed. Was this jetlag making him feel drowsy or the undulating pain rendering his heart numb and dead and pounding into the rest of his body in a dull nothingnothingnothingnothing heartbeat?

He waited all night. Sure, his body might still be on China time, but it wasn't that, that kept him up. He sat up all night, his phone in his hand, staring at it, willing it to ring, to buzz, to do something. He could hear Jessica singing Viva Las Vegas as she walked down the hallway, not bothering to look into his room. He could hear the girls screaming as they ran to the bathroom to brush their teeth, he could hear Ash dragging his backpack down the hallway, but his eyes never left his phone. She'll call. She'll text. He kept thinking it, but as the minutes, then hours ticked by, he started lowering his phone. His eyes burned again, perhaps more on fire than they'd ever been. With Aurora, with Murphy, there'd been calls, tired calls and whispered words of wonder and how beautiful they were, how utterly perfect their jointly created being was. Nothing, silence, all quiet on the Eastern front.

"Get up and take the kids to school!" Jessica pounded on the door.

"Can't you take them?" His voice sounded funny, ragged, tried.

"No, I'm packing!" she said. "God, do something for once!"

He felt like doing nothing.

But he got himself up, dragged himself off the bed and left his room. He was wearing the same clothes he was wearing the night before and he look crumpled, like a piece of paper that had been crunched up and then laid flat again. His hair was a mess and there were dark circles under his eyes and he hadn't shaved. He cracked his neck and went downstairs where his kids were waiting.

"Daddy, you look sick," Cheyenne told him, always the bold one of the three.

"I'm not feeling too good," he told them as he ushered them out the door.

"We should go to the doctor!" Sierra exclaimed. "He'll give you chicken soup and you'll be better."

He smiled, a ghost of a smile. "I know, baby, I'll get some soup and feel better."

Was there such a thing as soup for your broken heart? "Hey, Dad, every week, we get to have one person be the person of the week and they get to bring in a bunch of stuff that they want and keep it there and it has to be special stuff, do you think I could take some of your wrestling stuff?"

"Depends on what you want, we'll talk about it, okay?" he said, trying to get off the subject of wrestling.

"Okay," Ash nodded as they got in their car. He drove in silence, letting the girls pick the music as they sang along. It distracted him for a little while, but as he watched his girls and his son walking into their school, he finally let it out and sat there, in his car, in a school parking lot and cried. He cried for the kids he'd never get to drive and he cried for the woman who took his heart and continually crushed it in her beautifully manicured hands, he cried for the marriage that hadn't been so bad, but hadn't been enough, he cried for the cocktease he'd fooled around with to distract him from what he wanted, he cried for choosing to join the WWE when he did though he knew it didn't matter when he arrived because they'd always find each other.

Most of all though, he cried for himself, what his life had become and how this, this was how it was going to be from now on.

He wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand and reached into the backseat where Jessica had always kept tissues for the kids and their runny noses and constant messes. He grabbed a few and blew his nose, trying to just not be that guy, the one who lets a woman ruin them. If breathtaking wanted to settle for bastard, if they were absolutely through, well, there were other women. He would find someone, someone he was willing to really leave Jessica for. Barbie wasn't that woman, hell, anyone who ever actually did leave their wife for a girl like Barbie deserved what they got and then some. There had to be someone out there who would be willing to take him on, wouldn't hide behind excuses like political campaigns or warring companies. There had to be a woman out there who would want to be with him and not let excuses get in the way of that.

He resolved himself then. This was it. She was cutting the ties and so was he. Sure, she had his kids, but nobody knew that so it would be their burden to carry alone. He was taking a break. In that time, he could start the divorce proceedings with Jessica and try and get himself out in the dating world. He was sure John or Adam or Jay knew someone and though it would be difficult at first, he could certainly try this moving on bit. After all, he and breathtaking were always just an affair, she'd never allowed anything more. He was going to start over a new, exciting leaf.

So why did moving on feel so dull?

He made his way home quietly. He had no words and nobody to speak them to if he did have any. He wanted to play metal, the bassy drumbeat taking him away to parts unknown, but even that would provide no solace. He hated wallowing and yet, where she was involved, wallowing felt like breathing at this point. Eat, sleep, wallow, die, and then the sweet repose of eternal sleep. He had no choice but to pick himself up and move on. Because he'd fought so many times already and he kept losing, kept getting the short end of the stick. Was it really his fault he'd met Jessica first? Was it really his fault that he didn't realize what was going on between them until after they were both married? If he'd known, he would've changed everything, done everything in his power, but life did not give you do-overs. Do-overs were for fairy tales and his life was no fairy tale.

He pulled into his driveway, dreading going in and hearing Jessica sing some other Elvis tune or Lady Gaga or some other upbeat shit he didn't want to hear about. He grabbed his phone and thought of not checking, but his compulsiveness took over and he checked it. 7 new text messages and 2 new voicemails were on the screen._ Stephanie_, his mind burst with her name. How could he ever think to banish it, how could he bear not hearing or saying it? Stephanie!

Jay Reso (text)

What the FUCK dude? Are you fucking serious!

Adam Copeland (text)

Holy shit...

Barbie Blank (voicemail)

You're a fucking jerk, you know that, I hate you! *click*

Paul Wight (text)

How in the hell did you pull this one off? Damn, Chris...props to you.

Randy Orton (text)

So that thing you were talking about, after we saw Inception, holy shit, I didn't know...

Shawn Michaels (text)

And I thought we were cool, man, I thought we were cool

Jay Reso (voicemail)

Oh man, you have got to call me as soon as you get this message, I'm serious, dude, if you do not call me, I'm coming over there as soon as I finish my coffee!

Vince McMahon (text)

I'd like to call a meeting with you at Raw on Monday, if you can come sooner, please let me know, this is of an urgent matter.

Jessica Irvine (text)

Why the fuck has your office phone been ringing nonstop, I'm not picking it up, jackass, so get your ass home, it's annoying!

He was confused, what were all these texts and messages about? The confusion turned to sadness as not one message had been from Stephanie. The cone of silence was back up. Maybe he really should banish her name from his memory. He still had no clue what this was all about though and he sat there a few moments, just sitting and looking at his phone, wondering what was going on. The messages varied so much he couldn't make heads or tails of what they were actually talking about. He sat so long Jessica came outdoors to take out some trash and saw him sitting there.

She tapped on his window and he looked over at her. "What the fuck are you doing sitting out here? Your phone has been ringing off the fucking hook!"

"Sorry," he mumbled and he thought no more of the texts as he shuffled his way inside and upstairs. His phone was ringing and when he looked, he had...what the fuck, 22 messages! He'd never gotten that many messages before, not even when his mom died and people were sending condolences. What was he missing? He went online and looked at any wrestling sites. Had it gotten out that he was leaving? Only people in the company and some of his friends knew, but if it had gotten leaked, people might be freaking out about it. He looked at his Twitter and his replies and nothing out of the ordinary there, people saying he was the best, he was handsome, blah blah blah. The wrestling sites reported nothing, so what was the big deal?

He decided to check his e-mail and saw he had 15 e-mails within the last 30 minutes, but the one at the bottom was the only one that elicited any kind of reaction out of him.

WWE Company-Wide Memo

Sender: One Stephanie McMahon.

His finger hesitated over his mouse. He was itching to click the button, but he didn't know what he'd find on the other side. Whatever it was, it had to involve him. Was Stephanie trying to humiliate him? Had she announced to the whole company that he was leaving, chickening out basically? Everyone might be mad that he was abandoning them, taking time off while they travelled, but it wasn't his fault. He never got injured and he needed a break...from everything, from everyone. His phone rang again and he let the machine get it. It was from Adam, saying that they needed to talk. Apparently everyone needed to talk except for the one person that he wanted to talk to.

He clicked.

Memorandum

To: WWE Employees and Staff

From: Stephanie McMahon

Subject: Birth Announcement

To All WWE Staff and Employees:

I would like to announce the birth of my son, Brayton Theodore, who was born last night at 7:49pm. He weighs 7 pounds, 10 ounces and is 21 inches long. He and I are both doing very well and are healthy. We hope to see all of you soon.

In related matters, the subject of paternity has come up recently and with great consideration, truths have to be confronted and with certain changes sure to be occurring soon, I felt it was my duty to inform the entire company of these changes. I have never been one for rumors and hearsay and I refuse to let my name be drug into the rumor mill. As of 7:49pm last night, my husband, Paul Levesque, and I have had decided to terminate our marriage. The decision was a painful, yet necessary decision. For the past 6 years, on and off, I have been having an affair with Chris Irvine. He has asked me to leave my husband and be with him for most of those 6 years, I have readily refused. After having borne him three children and countless times where I have wanted to leave, but feared the repercussions, I have come to the decision that it is in my best interest and the best interest of my three children to accept his proposals, if he will still have me. I only ask that you keep your discretion with the information I have allowed you to know and that you keep my children out of your idle gossip. Thank you.

Stephanie McMahon.

Chris laughed. There was nothing else to do but laugh. She'd chosen him. She'd chosen him. He read the memo at least three more times, ignoring his ringing phone. He actually turned off the ringer and stood up. He felt renewed and invigorated. _If he will still have me_. He ran to his bedroom, grabbing a towel on his way. He took a shower, shaved, and grabbed some clothes, throwing some in the suitcase.

"Jessica!" he yelled.

"What!" she said, appearing in the doorway.

"The kids, your mom is going to pick them up from school today, right, and take them to her house, right?"

"Yeah, she is, why?"

"I'm leaving you."

"Excuse me."

"This thing between us, this...whatever you want to call this shit, it's over, it's all over. I can't take the charade anymore. I've been sleeping with Stephanie. She's the reason I left you the first time, it had nothing to do with Barbie, Barbie was me trying to forget Stephanie. She just gave birth to my son last night and I want to be with her and she wants to be with me. I'm sorry, Jessica, but you knew this was over, right?"

She didn't say a word. He expected her to throw things or histrionics. She sighed. "I never wanted to feel like a failure, you know."

"Jess," he said, going up to her and kissing her forehead. "We tried, but the fact is...we don't like each other very much."

She laughed, "I really don't like you."

"I know. Look, why don't...when things settle down. I'll take the kids, I'm taking the time off and I know."

"You'd do that?"

"I think it would be best for everyone. They've got two sisters and a baby brother to get accustomed to..."

"I'd like that," she told him. "Get out of here, I can't stand to see your ugly mug for another second."

He wasn't even sure if she was joking, but he didn't care. He grabbed his suitcase, zipped it up, kissed her cheek and was out the door before he could even say Stephanie McMahon's name. He needed to be with her, he needed to talk to her.

Now.

They wouldn't let him see her at first, family and husband only. He tried to say he was the father, but they didn't believe him until Shane and Marissa had come to visit and saw him arguing with the nurse, telling her to go ask Stephanie if she wanted to see him. Shane, whom the nurse had seen with Stephanie, vouched for Chris. Before he could go inside, Shane grabbed his arm and took him aside, which irritated Chris because he needed to see Stephanie. _If he will still have me_. Shane gave him a hard look, but it softened as he saw Chris's anxiousness.

"You better be good to her, you hear me? It took a lot of courage to do what she did this morning and she's been crying all night, so if you would just...be easy on her."

"Are you kidding me, Shane?" Chris said. "I'm the last person you need to tell this to. Who has Rora and Murph?"

"They're with Rissa's parents."

Chris nodded, then off Shane's look. "Shane..."

"Don't even, Chris, apparently you'll have a lifetime to explain why you ruined my sister's reputation," he said it with an edge, but Chris knew that Shane despised Paul, so there had to be a little bit of relief mixed in there, very deep, deep in there. "Let me tell her you're here."

"No, I can..."

"Chris, she's spent all night crying, the doctors have been worried about post-partum, let me tell her you're here, okay?" Shane said and Marissa nodded along with him. Chris just nodded and leaned against the wall as Shane disappeared into the room, the door gently closing behind him.

"She's been crying?" he asked Marissa.

"She...well, you'll see...she just couldn't do it anymore I guess, but she wrestled all night with the decision and then the memo...she yelled at them to let her use her phone to write it. Because of the crying all night, they let her."

"I'll see what?" he asked.

"You'll just see."

He felt like he was waiting ages, but it was only a few minutes before Shane slipped out the door. He walked over to Chris and nodded. "You can go in now, we'll leave you two alone, think you can maybe text us when you're done, we really want to see our nephew some more."

"Is he...in there?" Chris asked.

"Yeah, he is."

"Rissa said that I'll see, like, I'll see something, is...is everything okay with him?" Chris asked. He'd had so little contact with Stephanie over the last 40 weeks that he barely knew anything about the pregnancy. He hoped though, that if something were wrong, she would tell him and not keep him in the dark.

"He's perfect, Chris," Shane assured him. "Everything she wrote in that e-mail was true. He's perfect, it's just...well, you'll see."

He was starting to get tired of that phrase. He took a deep breath, sent a wavering smile to Shane and Marissa and then pushed open the door. She was sitting up in bed and he could see her eyes shining from the door. She looked dishevelled and like she hadn't slept, but she was the most breathtaking sight he'd ever seen. He gave her a crooked smile as his eyes fell to the blue bundled baby in her arms, drinking from a bottle. He knew from experience that Stephanie's milk probably hadn't come in yet.

"You can come in," she whispered, "he's awake. I've had them keep him in-room with me."

"Hey," Chris said, not sure how to start. He started walking a little closer to her and the tears were fresh in her eyes. He came to stand next to her bed and he wanted to kiss her temple, kiss her cheek, kiss her lips, but he wasn't sure he was really allowed so he settled for smoothing her hair down.

"You came."

"I needed to get away from the hundreds of e-mails, texts, and voicemails I was getting," he tried to joke.

"I like to make an impact," she told him.

"Boy, do you."

"I didn't know...I mean, I guess I could have called you first, not that you would take my call, I'm sure," she said bitterly and Chris had to wonder why she thought that. Of course he would have taken her call. He would have dropped everything and everyone to take her call. "Plus, I wanted it out there before Paul could skew the story, which I'm sure he's going to do anyways, he wasn't happy."

"Why would you think I wouldn't take your call?" he asked, ignoring the subject of Paul for a moment. They could come back to that one later.

"Because I know you're back with Jessica," she said sheepishly. "I mean, I just happened across her facebook and I saw your 10th anniversary picture and well, last I'd heard, you two were separated and I figured you went back to her and you were happy and fluffy bunnies with her."

He laughed, a rich-sounding one, deep and toned, "We were faking it."

"Faking it?"

"For the kids, for our families. She asked me to, I thought...I didn't have anything else. We're not back together, we never were."

"Oh," she said and he wondered if she would have called sooner if she'd known this small (large) fact.

"We're done, through, you and Paul are too?"

"I made the decision last night, after I saw..."

That was right, she'd seen something. Well, this would be as good a time as any to find out what the mystery was. Everyone kept talking about what he'd see and he was starting to wonder just what he'd see. Had everyone saw? And saw what exactly? It just didn't make sense to him. The baby cooed in her arms, a small yawn as he pulled away from the bottle. Chris was reminded he might actually have to look down to see, so he took his first good glance at his son.

And now he saw too.

Staring back at him were the bluest pair of eyes he'd ever seen, well, no, that wasn't true. He had seen those eyes, but only when looking in the mirror. They were his eyes, staring back at him. Chris smiled and took in the rest of the features, the downy blonde hair sparsely there on top of his head, the gentle curve of his nose and that damn McMahon chin. His pouty, pink lips and rosy cheeks of freshness. His tiny, perfect hands that were wiggling around and out of the blanket.

"He's beautiful, breathtaking even," Chris said.

"He's you," Stephanie told him. "They handed him to me, bloody and a mess, covered in amniotic fluid and he opened his eyes and I knew. I guess while I was delivering the afterbirth wasn't the best time to announce I wanted a divorce, but it was like you were in the room with me. I didn't...I didn't think you would come."

_If he will still have me_.

"How could you think I wouldn't come?" he wondered.

"You were so brave," she said, the tears rolling down her cheeks and he caught them before they hit their perfect, little boy. "You told Jessica you didn't want to be married. You thought I would do the same. I didn't. I drove you into the arms of a skank who slept with other men while with you and then whenever I wanted you, you'd come running and I treated you like a lap dog. Then...you tried again and I was still so scared and you were so...I just didn't think you'd come is all.

"I will always come if you need me," he told her. "Can I hold him?"

"Yeah," she said, handing him over. Chris took him in his arms and tested his weight. Stephanie moved over in bed and Chris sat next to her as she leaned her head on his shoulder and watched them. "Where are your kids?"

"With their grandma. I told Jessica that it was over. She was okay with it since, you know, we weren't really married. Where's Paul?"

"Probably flying down to Florida hoping to find you so he can kill you," Stephanie answered. "He was...security had to escort him out of the hospital. My dad said that I could stay with him and my mom until things calm down. They don't necessarily think Paul is a threat per se, but they can't be too cautious. If he continues to behave this way, I'll get a restraining order issued."

"What about the whole...Paul leaving for TNA worry?"

"He might," she acknowledged, "but a company should not take precedence over my family. It's a necessary lesson to learn. Besides, if he goes to TNA, it'll give me even more incentive to beat that company down so much that they will be begging to be bought out."

Chris grinned. This was the Stephanie he knew and loved. "What about your mom's campaign, the family image?"

"It should be a real family image, not a fake one," Stephanie said. "I told my mom and she said I should be happy, if it costs her the election, so what, the Senate is a few years, more if you're good, but family is forever and we're stuck with each other and if you can't stick with your family, politics isn't going to keep you warm when you're cold."

"You've grown up."

"Three kids will do that to you...your kids..."

"I'm going to take them, since I'm taking the time off, I told Jessica they could live with me. She's not...she's not a bad mother, but she's kind of selfish and she jumped at the chance to not have them. I'm thinking of asking her if I could have physical custody. I think they should know their brother and sisters, don't you think?"

"I think they'd like that. I always told Paul I wanted five or six children," she told him. "You can live here...with me..."

She sounded so apprehensive that he had to kiss her. His lips touching hers after so long felt like water to a dying man. She leaned up a little more to gain more access to his mouth and they both kissed and thought of nothing else until Bray started to whimper. Chris pulled away and cuddled his son closer to him, those blue eyes boring into him. He kissed his son's forehead.

"Of course we'll live here with you," Chris told her.

"So, um...you'll still have me?" she asked.

"Only if you'll have me."

She nodded.


End file.
